


Uncharted Territory

by Neverever



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Friendship, Kid Tony, Parenthood, Steve Feels, Tony Has Issues, uncle steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-27
Updated: 2013-10-27
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:31:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverever/pseuds/Neverever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being hit by an alien drug, Tony is lost in alternate realities. Only Steve has a chance to break through to him through their shared history.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Uncharted Territory

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and big thanks to my beta.

**Present day – New York**

“So what’s the damage?” Steve asked as soon as he got to his feet. It was one of those awful days where a simple job turned out to be worse than expected. All his team had to do was retrieve some alien technology from a teenage girl. Next thing they knew, three Avengers were down, and a full platoon of SHIELD agents and the remaining team had to subdue the girl and get the gun.

Steve had been knocked out by the blast from the alien gun. Now, six hours later, after a series of strange, incoherent dreams and a serious headache, Steve was reviewing the results of their morning fight. There was the usual collection of scratches and dents for most of the team, but Clint and Tony were still down. The gun had been whisked off to SHIELD for analysis long ago.

Bruce shook his head. “Clint and Tony are still in a coma, but we have no idea why. There’s no obvious damage otherwise.”

Bruce’s assessment was that the gun released some sort of neurotoxin into the air which hit Steve, Tony, and Clint. The SHIELD medical teams had run tests on Clint and Tony, and it was clear that they were in some sort of coma induced by the neurotoxin, and not suffering the effects of being knocked unconscious. Steve’s body had quickly flushed out the toxin and he could provide no clue to help solve the medical mystery.

One day later Clint and Tony still showed no signs of recovering. Steve was very bothered with having to watch his teammates lie unconscious with the medical personnel unable to help. Finally, he asked the SHIELD techs to bring in Reed Richards to analyze the gun since they were making no progress. He knew Tony would be highly annoyed that they contacted Reed. But territorial pride had no room when Tony and Clint’s lives were on the line. 

Clint recovered and woke up on the third day after the incident. He suffered from a massive headache and disorientation but was otherwise fine. Bruce and Reed questioned him thoroughly as soon as he could string together two words . All Clint could say was that he had a series of dreams that appeared to give him what he wanted most in life. In his final dream he won the lottery, became a billionaire and had dozens of women propositioning him. Clint laughed recounting the dream. “Man, it was just so ridiculous, it couldn’t be true. And then I woke up.”

But Tony was not waking up at all. The team decided to move Tony back to Stark Tower hoping that a change in scenery might jostle Tony out of his coma. And Steve knew Tony would rather languish at home than a SHIELD med bay. Pepper haunted Tony's apartment. She was either sitting next to Tony, brushing back his hair and stroking his hand, talking to him constantly, or stationed at the desk in Tony’s workshop trying to conduct business through conference calls.

Fretting at the lack of progress and hating to see his friend in this condition, Steve pushed for answers. Reed and Bruce proposed that the neurotoxin was designed to immobilize its victims through an induced dream state. Clint’s experience indicated that the victim had to come to the realization they were trapped in an alternate reality in order to break free. So, the conclusion was that they had to find some way to get that information to Tony.

Bruce suggested that they call in a SHIELD telepath. The telepath evaluated Tony and consulted with Bruce afterward. She could not reach Tony at all. Deeply worried about Tony, Steve listened as the scientist and the telepath theorized that Tony might be caught up in some sort of feedback loop; and, unlike Clint, he could not find his way out. The telepath thought that if she connected Tony’s mind to someone close to him, they could possibly help him navigate his way out of this trap.

The natural first choice was Pepper. But when she tried, though willing, she could not get through to Tony to communicate a message to him about the way out. She reported Tony seemed to be dreaming repeated scenes of working in his workshop, taking long vacations, bantering with her, and reveling in being free from paperwork. Next they tried with Rhodey, but he could not make any headway either. He encountered Tony dreaming of partying and studying at MIT, and episodes from their time as military liaison and defense contractor. 

Steve thought it strange that neither Pepper nor Rhodey mentioned Tony dreaming about Iron Man or the Avengers. Tony all but lived and breathed the Iron Man armors... 

To Steve’s surprise, Pepper suggested that Steve give it a try. She reminded Steve gently that he had a connection to Tony the others did not -- through Tony’s father. If Rhodey was right, and Tony was dreaming of his younger self, maybe Steve could reach Tony through memories of Howard. 

Pepper warned Steve that if he did this, he might see things he’d wish he hadn’t.

Tony had been in a coma for nearly six days and was not getting better. His decision made, Steve took a deep breath and let the telepath make the connection. He’d figure out later what to do if it all went badly.

 

**2009 – Malibu, California - Tony at 39**

As Tony was packing to leave the office after a very long day, his secretary asked if he was willing to talk to a reporter. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “What’s it about?” he asked.

She said, “Howard.”

“No comment,” Tony snapped. “If the reporter persists, have them talk to my lawyers.”

“Understood. See you tomorrow. Tony? Don’t forget, we have to make final arrangements for your trip to Afghanistan.”

“I still have to confirm with Pepper on the trip. But yes, see you tomorrow.” Just the mention of the trip to Afghanistan made Tony very cross. He had a very unsettling premonition about going on that trip.

Then again, a mention of Howard always put Tony in a remarkably ugly mood. The Southern California commute through traffic did not improve his mood any. When he finally stumbled home, he found Pepper waiting for him in the living room.

He settled down heavily into the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. Pepper rubbed his arm, handed him a drink, and asked, “How was your day?”

“Long,” he replied. 

Pepper took his hand and squeezed. “So anything new?”

“The usual. I’ve been run ragged over the clean energy plan and I need to pull something together for the board soon.” He ran his hand through his hair. “At least the Weapons Division will make their numbers and then some this quarter. We’ll have more updates tomorrow about earnings expectations.” He laid his head on Pepper’s shoulder.

She kissed the top of his head. “Before you fall asleep, let’s check in on the kids.”

Tony replied, “Sure.” He was not sure if he was up to seeing whatever the kids were doing.

Chaos was a good word for what he found when he and Pepper arrived upstairs. Lego was scattered everywhere in the kids’ play area, the television was blaring, and two screaming kids threw themselves at him. Tony hugged them and ruffled his son’s hair. Pepper leaned against the doorframe, watching her children excitedly show their father their lego creations. 

Tony was suddenly distracted by a cartoon that popped up on the television. It featured two superheroes, one who looked like a gold and red robot and the other man dressed in a red, white, blue suit. It seemed familiar but he had not watched cartoons in ages, even with a six and four year old in his house.

“What’s that on the TV?” he asked. He watched the flag man throw his shield to take out the enemy. He felt like the name of the cartoon was on the tip of his tongue.

The cartoon ended and Pepper said, “Who’s ready for bed?”

The kids did not want to go. And Tony did not help matters much when he asked them about the cartoon they watched. Both kids talked excitedly about the robot man. His son showed him how the robot man could shoot beams from his hands. Well, Tony thought, the kids had good taste. “Hey now, it’s time to hit the road,” he said, scooping up his daughter.

Once the hectic evening rush was over, Tony retreated to the master suite and got ready for bed. He was brushing his teeth, when Pepper came in and said, “Tony, we need to talk. Your father’s personal lawyer called this morning.”

“She did?” Tony asked distractedly.

“He’s not doing well. She wanted to know if you’d come out and see him.”

Tony looked at himself in the mirror, already feeling much older than his thirty-nine years. He had not slept well lately. He had recurring nightmares of some woman shooting at him, and that was all that the nightmare was, just an image of a woman with a gun. And talking about his dad – he just was not up for it. “Well, guess that’s what happens when you get old.”

Pepper looked at him expectantly. When he first met her he had no idea that they would end up here as husband and wife with two kids. Almost everything he never thought would happen to him and actively avoided had come to pass. And he had not talked to his father for over ten years, not since the ugly falling out they had over the future of Stark Industries. He knew from lawyers and well-intentioned busybodies that his father had been moved into an assisted living facility last year. 

They liked to call Howard Stark a magnificent bastard, but Tony long ago settled on just bastard. His father lost all restraint after his mother died in a car accident, and the distance between father and son deepened into estrangement. Pepper had stood by Tony during the dark days while he wrested control of Stark Industries from his father, who despite his age and failing faculties refused to step down, even as Stark Industries started to hemorrhage money and failed to take advantage of the technology markets. He loved her for it. And she wanted this – the seaside mansion, the marriage, the two kids -- and so he wanted it too. It worked for them despite Tony’s misgivings over parenthood. He was not going to repeat his father’s mistakes.

“How bad is it, did she say?”

“No, all she said was that Howard wasn’t doing well and it was probably time for you to come and see him before the end.”

“He didn’t come to our wedding, he did not acknowledge the birth of either of our children, and now it’s a good idea for me to see the old man before he passes?”

Tony had rebuilt Stark Industries nearly from scratch, fending off the buyout attempts, and keeping the business running. It came at an immense price, with him selling off the New York properties, shutting down sections of the company with massive layoffs and refocusing the entire business in California. After all the pain, Stark Industries came roaring back. And the past three years were vastly profitable. He had barely thought about his father in all that time.

Knowing Tony very well, Pepper shrugged. “I don’t know, Tony. How will you feel when he goes?”

Dropping down on the bed, Tony thought about the high price he was paying for making Stark Industries great. He was worn and tired and everything depended on him. He pulled out his tablet and waited for Pepper to join him. Scanning through his email, he thought about what she said. How would he feel if he never saw his father again?

So much had gone badly between them for so long. Howard had been a benignly neglectful father at best when he was growing up. But when Tony was old enough to be involved in the business, they started to clash until the bitter end.

Pepper slipped under the covers and snuggled up against Tony. “Have you made up your mind?”

“No,” Tony answered honestly. “I don’t want this to be one of those misguided attempts at reconciliation that his lawyers try all the time.”

“He’s dying, Tony,” she said softly.

“The last time we saw him he was storming out of that Board of Directors meeting swearing vengeance on us both.”

Pepper sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. “I try not to remember.”

“One of his so-called friends told me that Howard was only involved in selling armaments to the government during World War II and really resented not contributing to the war effort in any meaningful way, like scientific research. Said his resentment changed him, made him bitter and mean.” Tony shook his head. “I don’t know why, but he just wasn’t the same after the war. He hid it well from the public.”

“Still your father, Tony. You still get angry with him,” Pepper observed. “Not that he ever had a nice thing to say to me. I’m not asking you to make peace. Just at least show up, for your sake, say goodbye instead of spending the next 30 years thinking you should have.”

Tony thought more. In the end, he would go because Pepper would make him. But it would not be pleasant. “We’ll talk in the morning,” he said, kissing the crown of her head. “Figure out what to do.”

It would all look different after a good night’s rest, Tony thought.

 

**1992 – Monticello, New York - Tony at 22**

Tony woke up, resentful at the early hour. His father insisted that he join him on a trip upstate to meet some artist. He had made the poor choice to go out to a friend’s party the night before and straggled back much much later than he should have, knowing he had to be up at 5:00 am. He stared at the ceiling attempting to gather the energy to move.

According to the clock, he had just enough time for a shower and a shave before Jarvis showed up with the coffee and his father’s nagging. The water was wonderfully hot on his skin. He half-remembered the strange dream he had after landing in his bed, where he was flying around in a metal suit with some woman shooting a large gun at him. No doubt it was the result of drinking too much booze and watching bad science fiction flicks. What the hell had happened at that party? Tony wondered as he poured himself into some tight jeans and one of his less obnoxious t-shirts, throwing a jacket on top.

When he went downstairs, he found Howard talking to Maria in the foyer of their large family mansion. Jarvis handed him coffee already prepared the way he liked. A few sips and he was starting to feel human again. Maria, still in her bathrobe and nightgown, kissed him on the cheek. “Good morning, Anthony.”

Howard greeted him with a nod and said, “Well, Tony, I see you’re on time for once. We’re just waiting for the people from the MET.”

“Where exactly are we going?” Tony asked as Jarvis handed him a donut for breakfast.

“A small town in the Catskills, Monticello, I think. We’ll be gone all day, if that’s what you’re asking,” Howard said. 

The doorbell rang and Maria disappeared into the drawing room, not wanting to be seen undressed. Jarvis opened the door and ushered in the Metropolitan Museum of Art curators who would be accompanying them.

Howard made the introductions while Tony finished his donut. He did not quite catch the curators’ names. Howard explained, “Tony’s coming with us since he is joining the family charity business.” He checked his watch. “Limo’s out front. We should get going.”

As they went out the front door, Tony noticed that his father still limped from the car accident he had back in December. Although his relationship with his father was ambivalent, Tony worried about Howard’s health. At 75, Howard firmly insisted he could run Stark Industries as well as he did during World War II when he was involved in the Manhattan Project. Health issues were a concern only for Maria and no one else.

In the car, Howard gave Tony a strange look as he put on his dark sunglasses and leaned back in his seat. Howard addressed the curators. “So, why is this visit so important?”

One of the curators took out a folder full of photocopied images. “It’s Steve Rogers. He’s not quite a household name, but is more of an ‘artist’s artist.’ He started out with magazine illustrations and some advertising. Post war, he moved primarily to portraits, expanding into book illustration and some comic book work.”

The other curator continued. “Steve Rogers knows practically every artist who worked in New York for the last half-century. I saw his studio a few years ago and he’s done a number of portraits of important artists. And then there’s his collection of letters and art.”

“And where do we fit in?” Howard asked, nudging Tony awake.

The curators looked at each other. “We were contacted by Rogers’ lawyer, Sam Wilson, a month ago. Rogers is 74 and he was very ill last winter with double pneumonia. He’s never had good health to begin with. He needs to sell his house, and the lawyer mentioned needing to find a home for the collection. We want the personal papers and a representative selection of his artwork before they start selling everything off.”

Howard paged through the folder, a speculative look on his face. Tony stared out the window of the car. He could be anywhere else right now instead of on his way to meet some post-war artist. If they had never heard about this guy before, how good could he be? Tony caught the disapproving look in his father’s eye as Howard glanced at him. 

The senior curator spoke, somewhat hesitantly. “It’s a very delicate situation. Rogers is known for being unrepentantly stubborn and a pain in the ass to deal with. Wilson mentioned that Rogers is resisting the sale of the house and the collection. We’re hoping that if you commissioned a portrait, Mr. Stark, that would give us an ‘in’ with Rogers, and together we could work with him to eventually get what we want.”

The younger curator added, “But if Rogers dies before we come to an agreement, everything would likely go up for auction. He has no family and everything would have to go through probate. The collection of art and papers would be dispersed.”

“Hmmm, that’s a different kind of request. Usually you guys go straight for the huge donation,” Howard reflected. “Let’s see what happens.”

A short while later they finally reached the house and studio. The house was a rambling mid-century ranch house, with a wide screened-in porch and large mature trees. As the curators went up to the house, Howard pulled Tony aside. “Now pay attention to this,” he hissed at Tony. “We’re expected to be involved in philanthropy and sometimes we’re involved in odd projects.”

Tony was immediately irritated at his father’s comment. “I have no idea why we’re here. It seems like a huge waste of time.”

“If they didn’t need us, we wouldn’t be here, Tony,” Howard pointed out. “Act as if you care. That’s how you get through these visits. You never know when you could learn new thing or have fun. It’s more than about money, it’s connecting.”

They followed the curators into the house. In the small foyer, the curators were talking to a young man who was likely the lawyer, Wilson. While another round of introductions was exchanged, Tony looked around and noticed a large circular shield on the wall with red and white bands and a large white star on a blue field, and what appeared to be stage props on a display table. Wilson looked over at Tony. “During the war Mr. Rogers did design work for USO shows. He ended up keeping some of the props.” Wilson then ushered everyone in, saying that Rogers was waiting for them in the kitchen. 

Tony lingered behind. He wandered through the living room and into what had to be the studio. The large room had three walls with floor-to-ceiling windows and skylights, and was filled on one side with stacked paintings. There was an easel and piles of art supplies in a corner. Tony was drawn to the paintings, and picked one up with a red and gold helmet with glowing eyes and an angular slit for the mouth. 

“I’ve done many science fiction illustrations,” a deep voice said behind him. 

Tony nearly dropped the painting but recovered in time and turned around to see a slight elderly man with a cane. His eyes were the fiercest blue he’d ever seen. The man, Rogers, was studying him carefully. Thinking of what his father said, Tony held out his hand and said as charmingly as he could, “I’m Tony Stark.”

The man shook his hand. “Steve Rogers. You’re Howard’s son?”

Tony nodded and waved at the paintings. “This is all very good.” Rogers seemed familiar, somehow. And the voice, too -- _Look out – she’s got some sort of weapon_. Tony shook his head and the moment passed. 

“Sam wants me to sell out and go back to Brooklyn year round.” Rogers walked over to the paintings. He handed a canvas to Tony. This one depicted the whole robot matching the helmet painting, the robot in a stylized crouch, one fist pounding into the ground. Tony was not sure what to say. Rogers asked, “What do you think of that? Ever seen it before?”

Tony shook his head. He could almost remember, a faded, washed out image as if from a long-ago children’s show or something.

The rest of the group came into the studio. Howard said to Tony, “So this is where you’ve been. I see you’ve met Rogers?”

Steve glanced at Howard. “He was admiring my work, Mr. Stark.”

“It’s very good,” Tony repeated. The words ‘Mr. Stark’ echoed in his mind, like he had heard Rogers say them before.

“Now that I’ve met your son, I might be willing to talk more about your offer,” Rogers said cryptically. “Let’s go into the living room and talk.”

The others left and Howard pulled Tony aside. “I don’t know what you said, but good work, Tony,” Howard said.

Caught off guard by his father’s praise, Tony said, “Um, thanks, Dad. So, what’s next on our quest to take over this corner of the world?”

“Tony, let’s go make the deal,” Howard said with a grin.

 

**1996 – Crystal City, Virginia - Tony at 26**

“I’m so glad you were able to come, Tony,” his mother said. “I know your dad appreciates you being here.” She leaned on Tony’s arm as they went into the new SHIELD building in Crystal City, not far from the airport. Howard was wading into the celebratory crowd ahead of them. Maria smiled fondly at her excited husband. “He’s in seventh heaven for old farts.”

Tony looked around the brightly lit lobby with its plants and large windows and balloons with “50th Anniversary” printed on them. The celebratory mood of the crowd and decorations were a sharp contrast to the imposing slab of black granite on one wall. Maria urged Tony over to the wall so she could look at it more carefully. “I wondered what this memorial would look like. The building designers wanted something like the CIA memorial.” She touched the cold granite and sighed. “It’s sad, seeing how many people your father and I knew that are listed here.”

Tony looked up at the wall that memorialized men and women who died during their service for SHIELD and its predecessor, the Strategic Scientific Reserve. As expected, the first name he saw listed was “Steven Grant Rogers, 1918-1945, Captain America.” Some of the other names seemed familiar, “James ‘Bucky’ Barnes” for one. Tony agreed with his mother that there were a lot of names. He knew so little about what his father actually did for SHIELD. All his father ever talked about was he did for the SSR in World War II. 

“Mrs. Stark, we’re just about to start the anniversary celebration,” a staffer said as he came up to them. “Mr. Stark.” He nodded at Tony. “Would you both please come with me?”

Tony and Maria followed the staffer to a large conference room set up with chairs, a podium, and a large screen. Colorful booklets lay on each chair and the first three rows were marked “Reserved” with name tags. “Would you like to sit, Mom?” Tony asked. His mother had difficulty walking ever since the car accident that nearly killed her and Howard a few years ago.

“I need to find Howard. He’s going to be just impossible today,” Maria stated. She looked around and picked her husband out in the crowd.

Tony escorted Maria to Howard, who introduced them to the SHIELD personnel he was talking to. Tony listened with half an ear as Howard talked about events and people from years ago. He felt like he had hardly slept at all for the past few days while traveling with his parents. And when he did sleep, his dreams were a confused blur of people in colorful costumes and violent action. Tony stifled a yawn. 

A harried staff member was trying to organize the swell of people. Tony caught his mother’s eye as Maria said in sympathy. “She’s not going to win with this group.” 

They both saw an elderly woman with striking looks making her way towards them. Howard looked up and his face brightened. “Peggy Carter,” he greeted her and they embraced.

“Howard Stark, it’s been a long long time,” Peggy replied.

“How’s retirement treating you? Bored yet?” Howard asked teasingly.

“No, I’m catching up on fifty years of reading and movies and still traveling. It’s been nice to go to places and not get shot at.”

“That does have its upside. You know Maria, of course, and this is Tony, my son.”

Peggy hugged Maria warmly and shook Tony’s hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, Tony,” Peggy said. Tony was surprised. “Still working?” Peggy asked, turning to Howard.

“Tony is gradually taking over for me. He’s making most of the day-to-day decisions now,” Howard said proudly. “And doing excellently at it.” Tony was starting to think that a pod person had taken over his father.

Sharp and observant, Peggy winked at Tony. “It’s wonderful to see the next generation of the Stark family taking over Stark Industries. Maybe you might get involved in the ‘other’ family business?”

Tony caught the distant look in Howard’s eye. He got the sense that Dad would not approve of his working directly for SHIELD, and wondered why. How important was SHIELD to Howard that he did not talk about it to Tony, who already was working on classified military technology?

“I hear nearly everyone will be here,” Howard said.

“Nearly everyone. Some of us were at Dino Manelli’s funeral last month,” Peggy said sadly.

“Oh, yes.” Howard’s face fell. “I saw that in the papers. I wasn’t able to go.”

Peggy said ruefully, “You’ll have more opportunities in the future, I’m afraid.”

A communications staffer and a photographer showed up. “Director, Associate Director, smile for the camera,” he said.

Peggy and Howard exchanged glances and then smiled for pictures. “I never thought I’d see the day when they’d allow photographers around SHIELD Headquarters,” Peggy commented.

Howard chuckled. “It’s a whole new world. Can you believe SHIELD is celebrating its fiftieth anniversary?”

“And still saving the world,” Peggy added. She was looking through one of the booklets. “Oh, I wonder where they found that.” She showed them a picture of Howard, herself and Steve Rogers standing around a map at SSR Headquarters. The picture was captioned “Two founding members of SHIELD and their inspiration.”

Maria smiled fondly at Howard. “You look so young.”

Howard was far less ebullient. “We all were,” he said shortly. He looked up at Peggy. “So what do you think he’d make of all this?”

“Steve?” Peggy looked sad and reflective for a moment. “He’d be surprised at all of the fuss. And he’d especially hate the design of the memorial wall, I think.”

“It only makes sense that he’s at the top. If it wasn’t for Steve, I’m not sure where you or I would be. Or if we’d even have a SHIELD.”

Peggy said, “Hmmm, that’s an interesting assessment.”

A staffer came up to them then. “Please, the speeches are about to start. As the guests of honor, we’d invite you to take your seats now, if you would.”

Tony barely listened to the opening remarks by some high-ranking bureaucrat in the SHIELD hierarchy about the importance of SHIELD in today’s world. He idly flipped through the booklet, pausing at the picture of his dad, Peggy and Captain America.

 _Gosh, Tony, your dad, me and Peggy. I don’t remember when they took that picture – must’ve been in late ‘44 because of the map_ , said the impossibly young blond man with fierce blue eyes.

_Hey, that’s the alarm. Wonder what the emergency is this time._

Tony shook his head, dispelling the strange thoughts in his mind. Maria put her hand lightly on Tony’s arm. “Your father always seems so alive when he is at SHIELD or with his SHIELD colleagues,” she whispered.

“But why?” Tony asked.

“It’s about saving the world. Doing good. Being the best you can be. The challenge,” she said thoughtfully. “Being a hero.”

Tony looked over at Howard and Peggy, listening intently to a speaker lecturing about how important Captain America was to SHIELD. It always came back to Captain America in the end, didn’t it, thought Tony. He could not see how his father fit into the same picture.

 

**2012 – Washington, D.C. - Tony at 42**

Pepper adjusted Tony’s tie and stepped back to evaluate. “You’re presentable,” she said with a small smile and a kiss.

“Just presentable? Not dashing? Handsome?” Tony asked with a wink as he pulled her in for a quick kiss.

Rhodey sighed from his seat on the couch. “It’s a funeral, Tony.”

“A highly public funeral. Got to look my best, people.” He checked himself out in the mirror.

Pepper said, “I have the text of your eulogy here. And we need to get going. We have a set time to be at the National Cathedral. We can’t be late.”

“It’s not like the guest of honor is going anywhere,” Tony pointed out. He walked over to see what Rhodey was watching on the television.

It was another news program on Captain America. Ever since they recovered him from the ice, he had been in the news. Channels were cluttered with programs on his role in World War II, his influence on the modern military, interviews with the last two or three Howling Commandos, and complete biographies, including pictures of Howard Stark. Then the powers that be decided to hold a full state funeral with interment in Arlington National Cemetery, of course. The papers were full of pictures of veterans visiting the Captain as he lay in state in the Capitol Rotunda. 

“Haven’t you seen enough of that?” Tony sat down on the couch arm and slapped Rhodey’s shoulder.

“No,” said Rhodey firmly. Tony should not have been surprised when Rhodey told him that Captain America was a personal hero. Guess it was all the military stuff.

Pepper pushed them out of the hotel suite to go to the waiting town car. On the drive to the Cathedral, Tony remembered the strange call he’d gotten from some government agency he’d never heard of, SHIELD, informing him that they had found the Captain in the frozen wreckage of the Valkyrie. By the time they had called him, funeral preparations had already been made. Tony was asked, or more accurately, _informed_ that he would be giving one of the eulogies at the funeral.

It had also been highly suggested that he go to the Rotunda to pay his respects. He resisted – it was fine enough to give a eulogy, but not to be part of the whole circus. Look at that, it’s Howard Stark’s son standing with Peggy Carter next to Captain America’s casket! He did not want any part of that at all.

He wondered out loud, “I have no idea what the hell Howard expected to find in the wreckage of the Valkyrie. This was always how the story was going to end – a funeral.”

“You don’t leave a man behind, Tony,” Rhodey said calmly. He was decked out in his dress uniform, complete with his medals and a little extra spit and polish. Tony wondered if Rhodey was here in part to ensure that Tony actually came to the funeral. Because he was not going to cross his best friend on this.

“My father never shut up about him. It was always Captain America did this or would do that,” Tony said with a bitter edge. “You know, Howard went out and searched for him for years. At first directly, and then he funded a yearly expedition. I ended it when I took over Stark Industries.”

“Tony, he was your father’s friend, who died saving the eastern seaboard of the country. I can see why your dad looked up to him,” Rhodey said.

Tony shook his head. It wasn’t just that Howard went on about Captain America, but that it was like he had held a Captain America-shaped ruler up to Tony and found Tony wanting. Captain America lingered on the edge of Tony’s life like a perfect, long-absent older brother.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this place so crowded,” Rhodey observed as they pulled up to the Cathedral. The sidewalks were spilling over with people trying to get into the funeral and the Capitol police were having great difficulty handling the crowd. 

Tony stepped onto the sidewalk and was immediately accosted by several reporters. Microphones bristled in his face and one of them shouted a question, “What can you say about Captain America, one of the nation’s greatest heroes?”

With the ease of long practice, Tony smoothly gave a rote response. “My father, Howard Stark, greatly admired Captain America and was very proud to have served with him during World War II. I only wish my father were here for the funeral.” Then he set off for his reserved seat inside the cathedral.

Somehow Pepper knew where they were sitting. Rhodey peeled off to sit with the Air Force delegation off to one side. But Pepper pushed Tony towards the front row where he and the other participants would be sitting.

As Tony sat down, Pepper glanced around and whispered, “It’s like we’re his only family, Tony.” The Captain had been an orphan and there was no record of any other relatives. Tony frowned. 

His mind wandered as they waited. He was appalled that Pepper had gotten them there so early. He suspected that she did so as a favor to some unnamed people. Ever since whatever had happened in Monaco and at the Stark Expo, she had been careful to deliver Tony to events and meetings at the request of these people. He tried to remember what had happened at the Stark Expo; surely he couldn’t have been blackout drunk for the whole thing.

Two honor guards escorted a very elderly woman to the front row to her seat next to Tony. Pepper leaned around Tony to greet her. “Peggy Carter?”

The woman smiled at Pepper. “Yes, I am.” She looked over at the spot where they would lay the casket draped in an American flag. “I wouldn’t have missed this. I owe Steve that much.” Steve? Tony wondered. His dad had occasionally called Captain America Steve Rogers. “Tony Stark? You must be Howard’s son?” Peggy asked.

Tony had heard her name before but he could not figure out the context. “Hiya, glad to meet you.”

“I worked with Howard and Steve in the SSR during the war,” Peggy said. “A lifetime ago. Your father was a very smart man. And always very charming. I have stories.”

Pepper smiled. “We’d love to hear them sometime.”

“It’s a hard business being in love with a Stark,” Peggy observed.

“One definitely needs to work at it,” Pepper replied and squeezed Tony’s hand.

Peggy said with a hint of years of sadness in her voice, “At least you have him.”

A hush came over the Cathedral as an honor guard with representatives from all the armed services brought up the flag-draped casket. Tony wondered why anyone cared that much about a long-lost World War II hero, now considered a legend. His father had loved and even obsessed over the man, but never explained why Captain American mattered so much to him and other people like him. Everyone around him was here today because of that one man.

It was going to be one long day. At least Tony knew that Pepper would kick him if he fell asleep.

_It did not turn out that way, Tony. The story had a different ending. You know that._

 

**1979 – Washington, D.C. - Tony at 9**

While his mother was distracted, Tony made a break for it and tried to find the room with all the screens in it, where they had left his father with all the generals and officers. Maria had stopped to talk to some woman for some reason and Tony wanted to see that very interesting room again. He wanted to see the screens with all the squiggly lines; he just knew that those lines must mean something fascinating.

But now he was lost in a maze of gray, unmarked corridors. He was pretty sure that he knew where the room had been but now he could not find it. He decided to run back to his mother and then bumped into a very tall, stern-looking man with graying hair dressed nearly like everyone else in this place.

The man said, “Hello there, soldier. Are you lost?”

Even at nine, Tony did not want to look like he did not know what he was doing, so he tried to bluff it out. “I’m not a soldier. I’m just waiting for my dad. He told me to wait here. I’m okay.”

“What’s your name?” The man smiled.

“Tony.” Tony was going to give name and serial number only.

“Who is your dad?” asked the blond man patiently.

“Mr. Stark.”

The man nodded and smiled. “Well, I don’t think your dad will mind if we wait in my office, which is just around the corner.”

Tony weighed his meager options and somehow decided this man did not seem that dangerous. “Okay. But only until my dad comes and gets me.”

“Fair enough.” The man started to walk and Tony followed. “Now, my name is Steve Rogers. And here we are,” he said, opening a door to a suite of offices. Mr. Rogers stopped at a desk and said to the woman sitting there, “Could you find Mr. or Mrs. Stark? I think they lost Tony.”

“Yes, General.”

Tony followed Mr. Rogers eagerly to his office. The office turned out to be richly furnished with a desk, rugs, and bookcases filled with books. There was a large map above a credenza on one wall and on the other there was a large circular red, white and blue shield and a large collection of plaques and awards. Tony stared at the shield and reached out to touch it. “Did you know Captain America, Mr. Rogers?”

“You could say we’re acquainted.”

Tony poked at the books on the credenza. “Are you a general?”

“Yes, two-star. Been that way for a while. Now, Tony, I bet you like games?” General Rogers asked. He retrieved a few board games out of a cabinet. He also tossed a red and gold robot on top of the games.

Tony went for the robot. He examined it, turning it around in his hands. “I bet I could make this robot fly. All I’d need to do is make jet boots or something.”

“Jet boots?” the general asked. He pulled out two chairs and sat on one.

“Maybe not, jet boots aren’t easy to control. And flight needs a lot of control if you want to get anywhere. That’s why planes have flaps and rudders.” Tony sat on the other chair and kept chattering about how he would design a flying robot because he thought flying was fantastic. He told the general about how they flew down from New York, but that Tony would have to go back to his boarding school soon. He couldn’t work on building anything at school since he got into trouble for starting a small fire last term. “I would have put it out, you know, but the teachers got all scared and stuff,” Tony said proudly. “Anyway, if I could get this robot to fly, he could help his friends fight super villains and aliens. He could shoot them with lasers.”

“Super villains?”

“Yeah, like bad people with guns and bombs. I have this dream that I’m a superhero just like the ones I read about in the comics,” Tony replied breathlessly. 

Rogers asked, “What kind of superhero?”

Tony thought about it for a minute. “A superhero who can fly for one thing. And then I use lasers or something to fight the bad guys. You know, I need to find some way to power the lasers.”

“Maybe a power source like an arc reactor?” the general suggested.

Tony looked up in surprise. “What’s that?” he asked. _You don’t remember, Tony?_ He shook his head, confused. Did the general say that?

The door opened and Tony’s parents rushed in. Maria immediately said, “Oh, we’re sorry if Tony was bothering you, General Rogers.” She knelt down and gave Tony a quick hug.

Howard shook the general’s hand. “Thank you for finding Tony, sir.” 

“Anyone can get lost in the Pentagon,” the general said kindly. “Tony is a very smart boy. Mr. Stark, I think we met a couple of years ago at some conference concerning the future of warfare.”

“I definitely remember meeting you, General. Your reputation is stellar, of course. You were at the War College at the time?”

“Yes, I’m going back to teach again in a few months,” Rogers said.

Howard and General Rogers talked a few minutes more about business. Then it was time to go and Tony offered to return the robot back to the general.

“No, you can keep it, Tony. My grandchildren aren’t that interested in robots or machines. I hope to see your family again soon, Howard.”

Howard thought for a minute. “You know, we are going to be in town for a couple of days more … Maybe we could meet for dinner?”

General Rogers wrote down a phone number. “My wife and I would love to.” He gave the slip of paper to Howard, who beamed.

“Say thank you to Captain America,Tony, ” Maria prompted.

Tony’s eyes got wide. “No way! I can’t believe it! Are you really Captain America?” 

“I’m not really now – been retired a few years,” the general chuckled.

Tony had a dozen questions but Maria firmly guided him out the office as he kept staring at the general who had found him.

Howard ruffled Tony’s hair. “You have style, Tony, to get rescued by the old Captain.”

Tony smiled up at his dad. It turned out to be the best day after all. Especially since he found out his dad was a big fan of Captain America too.

 

**1991 – Boston - Tony at 21**

Exhausted and hungry, Tony arrived at his apartment after being kicked out of his lab by his dissertation advisor. He told Tony that he could compile data just as easily in the morning as in the evening, and the process would go better and faster with sleep. And food. Tony found some ramen in a cabinet and a beer in the nearly bare refrigerator. He had just settled into his couch and was looking for something to watch on television when there was a knock on the door.

Who the hell would be bothering him at home? Everyone knew to find him at the lab, even the cops. “Tony? Are you there?” said the person on the other side of the door.

Tony immediately jumped up to open the door. “Hey, Steve,” Tony said. “And Obie. Wow, this is a surprise. What’s going on, did Dad send you to check up on me?”

The two older men walked somberly into the apartment. Tony had just the broken-down couch and a couple of chairs in the place. Steve glanced at Obadiah and said, “Tony, we’re here with some … news.”

Tony was very glad to see Steve, an old wartime friend of his father’s. He had no idea what Steve actually did down there in D.C. since he retired from being Captain America. Howard and Tony always had a great time when they saw Steve on the rare occasion when they were all together in the same place. Steve was the first person to take Tony to the Air and Space Museum. Tony still had the plastic jet Steve bought him. But Tony sensed that something was profoundly wrong. He sank back down on the couch in front of his grim guests.

“Geez, Tony, there’s no good way to break this news.” Steve ran his hand through his still-blond hair. “But very early this morning, your parents were killed in a car accident,” he said carefully. 

Tony sat there, stunned. He had just talked to his parents the other day about coming home for Christmas. Or rather Tony’s decision not to come home this year as he looked forward to lots of lab work and big parties over the break. Or he had been. 

“That – that – that would have been in the news,” he finally stammered out.

Following up, Obie said, “We held the news back until we could tell you in person. As soon as we knew what happened, we came up to Boston to tell you.”

“Oh,” Tony replied. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the news. He started to blink back tears. He did not have the best relationship with Howard, but Tony suspected that recently Steve had been encouraging Howard to try to fix whatever was going wrong between them. Howard tended to listen to Steve. Now, Tony would never see his mother or his father again. Steve reached out to rest a sympathetic hand on Tony’s shoulder. “So ... ugh ... what happens now?” Tony started to ramble. Oh hell, he would have to leave school to run Stark Industries. How could he even do that? He had no idea. Tony started to hyperventilate.

Rubbing Tony’s shoulder to calm him down, Steve said quietly, “Tony, you can come and stay with Peggy and me at our hotel for now. And then we’ll figure it out. You don’t have to make any decisions right now.”

Obie interrupted. “Or you could stay in Boston and come down for the funeral, whatever you decide.” Steve gave Obie a dirty look.

Tony, overwhelmed and not sure what to do, indicated that he would be right back and went down the hall to the apartment’s small bathroom. After splashing some water on his face to pull himself together, he thought with certainty he could not put a show of strength for long. He was on his way back to the living room but stopped in the hallway when he heard Obie and Steve having a quiet but very intense discussion.

“No, Obie, I’m not leaving a kid with self-destructive tendencies by himself. I owe Howard that, and I’m going to do the right thing for Tony,” Steve said firmly.

“Come on, Steve. Tony’s twenty-one and he can take care of himself. His work at MIT is very important and really shouldn’t be interrupted. He can make his own mind up,” Obie argued smoothly.

Steve snorted. “I’ve known the boy before he was even born. He’s a kid to me. And as executor of Howard’s will, I will do my darndest to see that Howard’s wishes are followed exactly and to Tony’s complete benefit so that Tony inherits all of Stark Industries.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Obie replied darkly. “Stark Industries?”

“Don’t underestimate me, Obadiah. I have your number even if Howard didn’t.”

Tony recognized the underlying threat. He had always trusted Steve completely. Although he and his dad liked Obie, something told him that he should continue to trust Steve, even if that meant going against Obie.

Making his entrance, Tony declared, “I – I want to stay with you tonight, Steve, if you’re sure.”

Not even looking at Obie, Steve said, “Yes, Tony. Go grab what you need.” As Tony went to pack a few things in the bedroom, he heard Steve make Obie leave the apartment.

Steve and Tony were silent on the short cab ride to the hotel. Steve’s wife, Peggy, greeted them when they reached the hotel room, and hugged Tony as he entered. Setting down his duffel, Tony noticed that the room was actually a suite and they had set aside a room for him. It was warm and comforting and Peggy was fussing over him. “Have you had anything to eat, Tony?” Steve asked. 

When Tony did not reply, Peggy exchanged a glance with Steve and said, “We’ll take that as a no. Here, why don’t you order anything you want from room service.” She handed him a menu.

Steve and Peggy were unbelievably kind to him. They ate dinner in silence and let Tony rent movies from pay-per-view. They said nothing, but they both hugged him good night when Tony turned in early.

But Tony could not sleep. Finally he got up to get some water from the bathroom and saw Steve quietly reading by the window. “How are you doing?” Steve asked gently. That’s when Tony started to cry and Steve put his arm around his shoulders. “Tony, it’s up to you, but if you want, you have a home with us. You can come back to D.C. with me and Peggy. Or stay here in Boston. Anything you want you can have.”

Tony thought for a minute. It sounded so good – the idea of living with Steve and not having to make plans for now. He could work at Johns Hopkins in a pinch if he chose. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds like a plan,” Tony agreed. That plan would work.

 

**1976 – The Hamptons - Tony at 6**

Excited and eager, Tony was running around the tent and tables set out on the large sloping lawn behind his family’s beachfront house. His parents were throwing a huge Bicentennial party tonight complete with fireworks. He ran up to Maria, who was talking to the caterers. She smiled indulgently at her son and ruffled his wavy brown hair. Checking her watch, she said to the caterers, “My guests should be arriving any minute.” And looking down at him, she suggested, “Tony, why don’t you go and watch from the front window?”

Tony ran back to and through the house and hopped up onto the couch in front of a living window where he could watch cars pull up the long driveway. Howard was giving last-minute instructions to the parking attendants hired for this party. But Tony was waiting especially for that large, solid dark-colored Ford that Uncle Steve drove. He knew his uncle would come first of all the partygoers since Maria had told him that Steve would be staying for the week.

And he was right. The familiar car pulled up and Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy stepped out. Howard greeted Steve warmly with a handshake and Peggy with a kiss on the cheek. Steve took his luggage out of the trunk and they all came up to the house. As soon as they opened the door, Tony launched himself at Steve, shrieking his name. “Hey down there, sport,” Steve replied, hugging the little boy.

Howard asked Jarvis to have the Rogers’ luggage brought up to their room and offered them drinks in the library. Tony knew they would talk forever and he couldn’t wait to show Uncle Steve his project. He tugged at Steve’s blue pants. Steve smiled at him and then said to Howard and Peggy, “Why don’t you both keeping talking business while I see what Tony wants?”

Tony led Steve down to the improvised workshop in the garage. After Howard bought the house, he had outfitted the garage as a workshop and Tony moved in at the start of the summer despite Maria’s worries. He was very proud of his summer project and wanted to show off for Uncle Steve. “Look,” Tony said, pointing to the engine in a corner of the workshop.

“It’s an engine,” Steve replied with the practiced air of a father of three.

“And I built all by myself!” Tony exclaimed. He was very pleased when he saw how impressed Steve was. Tony showed him how it worked and talked about his next project and what he was going to during the summer. 

Eventually, Steve told Tony that they had to rejoin the party. When they emerged from the workshop, the rest of the guests had arrived, including members of the Howling Commandos, people from Stark Industries and that other place his father worked, and his mother’s charity friends. Steve joined a small group with Howard and Peggy, putting his arm around Peggy’s waist. They were talking to Steve and Peggy’s son, James, who had come down from West Point. 

Tony was soon bored and went looking for his mother. His mother was on the deck outside talking to Steve’s daughters. Tony wandered away from them, stood up on the lower deck railing, and looked out over the lawn now filled with people. Jarvis brought him cookies and lemonade and patted Tony’s head. As the sun started to set, Tony went back into the house. 

Howard was talking to Steve in the library. “So he showed you the engine?” Howard asked.

“It’s impressive,” Steve said.

“He’s only six, Steve. He’s unbelievably smart,” Howard said fondly. “And constantly moving and getting into things. He talks all the time.” Howard drank from his glass. “He scares the hell out of me.”

Steve chuckled. “It’s kind of the natural state for parents.”

“Maria and I have to decide what to do about his education. I have no idea what Tony is going to do in first grade in the fall. What if he’s bored to tears? He’s teaching himself calculus now.”

“Howard, there are a lot of options. I know you were thinking of boarding school eventually. But maybe Tony needs something different.”

“We’ll see,” Howard said with a sigh. “I love him so much and I just want to do the right thing for the boy.”

“All Tony needs is love and apparently access to a workshop with tools,” Steve said warmly. “You’ll figure it out.”

Maria, mistress of ceremonies, called out to her guests that dinner was ready. Tony was seated at the same table as Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy and his parents. The conversation was dull and boring. And Tony started to get fussy. But Steve drew funny pictures for him on paper napkins he found somewhere. Then Steve and Peggy played word games with Tony as Howard and Maria tended to the other guests.

The caterers wheeled in a large cake decorated in red, white and blue. Howard went to stand next to it. “Today’s is our country’s 200th birthday. But it’s also Steve’s birthday too, as all of you know. So happy birthday, Captain America!” Someone lit the candles and they all sang happy birthday to a very red and clearly embarrassed Steve.

Laughing, Peggy told him, “You can’t crawl under the table. It’s not dignified.”

Steve grimaced. “Well, if I had known what Howard was planning ….” There were cries of Speech, Speech! from the guests. And Steve, still blushing furiously, stood up and joined Howard. 

Tony did not pay attention to Steve’s speech and instead got up and wandered around the tent. James scooped him up and took him outside to throw around a ball and goof around. Tony really liked Steve’s kids, who were always around the Stark mansion when they were not at school or at work. “We’ve got to go back,” James said. “It’s dark enough for the fireworks.”

They went back to the tent. And Tony went looking for Uncle Steve. Steve was sitting on the deck stairs with Peggy, who had taken off her shoes. Steve had his arm around Peggy’s shoulders and Peggy laid her head on his shoulder. Tony begged to sit in Steve’s lap.

“Come on up, sport,” Uncle Steve said as Tony settled down. Tony could see his parents dancing slowly in light of the tent. Then the fireworks started to go off, red, white, blue, red and gold. He did not want to be anywhere else except right here and right now.

Tony woke up in the middle of the night. Uncle Steve must have carried him up to bed. He was thirsty and decided to go down to the kitchen.

Uncle Steve was at the kitchen table, drawing. Tony was curious. He had seen the drafting table in Steve’s townhouse but never saw his uncle draw. He padded up to the table and sat on a chair.

The table was covered with a large sheet of paper already covered with figures. It looked like a comic book splash page with superheroes and villains fighting on the streets of New York. Steve was drawing a flying robot in red and gold. And a woman with a gun.

“Do you remember, Tony?” Steve asked.

Tony looked up at Uncle Steve, who started to transform into a younger man, dressed in a t-shirt and sweat pants, and was not his distinguished Uncle in his striped pajamas. Remember what? Tony shook his head.

“This isn’t real, Tony. We’re not in the Hamptons. It’s not the Fourth of July, 1976.” Young Steve pulled out another sheet of paper. It was a drawing of a man in a robot suit, the faceplate of his helmet up. The man had brown eyes and a goatee. Tony thought it sort of looked like him, maybe more like his dad. “This is you, Tony,” Steve said.

Tony was getting upset with young Uncle Steve. He looked at the drawing. There was a large green man, a red-haired woman in black, and a man with a bow and arrow. Then there was Captain America with his shield approaching the woman with the strange gun. “That’s you,” Tony said.

“Yes. And that’s you,” Steve said pointing to the robot man landing next to the woman with a gun.

Tony frowned. _Look out – she’s got some sort of weapon. She’s firing._ Tony, bewildered, started to cry, clutching at Captain America’s shoulders.

Then Tony woke up.

 

**Present day – New York**

Wrung out and exhausted, Steve stepped away from Tony’s bed as Tony struggled to sit up. This whole incident was going to the top of Steve’s growing list of things he planned never to do again. Pepper rushed forward to kiss and hug Tony before Bruce and the nurse could examine Tony. Steve decided to retreat, to clear his head and to grab something to eat as his stomach grumbled from hunger. Glancing back at the happy scene with Pepper and Rhodey talking to Tony, Steve thanked the telepath and left.

Once his confusion cleared, Tony fought against medical advice to take things easy. He insisted he was just fine, felt terrific after a long sleep and that he needed was to get back into the swing of things. He spent time with Rhodey and Pepper before Rhodey left to return to duty. And then Pepper said she had some pressing concerns at Stark Industries that needed her attention and reluctantly flew back to California, promising to be back as soon as she could. Then Tony threw himself into his workshop muttering darkly about needing to upgrade the suit to repel alien mystery voodoo.

Three days after Tony woke up, Steve was sitting very late at night in the Avengers’ kitchen. He still felt very uncomfortable about the neurotoxin incident. He had been warned, and he knew mucking around in Tony’s brain could be bad. But seeing what Tony was dreaming and then interacting in those dreams opened wounds that Steve hoped had been long healed. The images were still stuck in Steve’s mind. Slowly eating a bowl of cereal, he tried to focus on reading the reports on his tablet he needed to get through before the next day.

His ears picked up the familiar sound of Tony’s footsteps. “Good evening, sunshine,” Tony said as he entered the kitchen and patted Steve’s arm.

“I see you decided to surface from your workshop,” Steve observed.

“Couldn’t work over the sound of my stomach rumbling,” Tony replied, as he started to rummage through the kitchen cabinets. “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse. Not that I’m complaining about the nutritious benefits of DUM-E’s smoothies, but they sometimes leave much to be desired.” 

“So how are you doing?” Steve asked.

“Still sore and puzzled all over. Don’t tell Bruce – he’ll try to confine me to bed.”

“Did Bruce go over what happened?”

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “Everything I need to know. Alien technology, nervous girl, bad bad effects on humans. Blah, blah, blah.”

Steve thought for a second. “That’s a good summary.”

“Yeah, that whole thing – that was not fun.” Tony frowned while reading the directions on the pizza box. “What do you think frozen, frozen pizza tastes like? Not sure I want to wait to heat this up.”

“Cereal? I make a mean oatmeal.” Steve held up the box.

“Oatmeal? Seriously, Steve.” Tony set the oven to preheat and threw the pizza in. “So anything new on why I spent a week in a coma?”

“Bruce and Reed have some theories. Bruce must have mentioned something when he talked to you,” Steve explained. “All we know is that you were trapped in a sort of dream world. And it turns out that you are a more complex person than Clint in creating alternate realities.”

“Reed? Really?” Tony sighed as he fiddled with the coffee maker. “I guess you didn’t have any other viable options, like the winner of this year’s city-wide high school science fair.”

“Bruce and I have been concerned whether there are any residual effects.”

“I am walking and talking and going to drink coffee. I’m fine. Be better when Pepper gets back,” Tony said. He tapped the coffee maker as if that would make it work faster. “So. That elephant in the room we’re ignoring right now ...” Tony glanced up at Steve. “Did I hear you talking to me in whatever dream state I was in?”

Steve was not sure if he wanted to have this conversation yet. Or ever. “According to Clint, he got out of the coma by rejecting the alternate reality he was in. We had to get you to do the same.”

Tony fixed up his coffee and leaned against the counter, looking at Steve across the rim of his mug. He was quiet for a while. “So, you were in my mind?” he finally asked. His face was indecipherable and had a faraway look.

Steve still felt too raw from his recent renewed experience of loss and grief. “Yeah. I was, uh, ‘patched in’ by a SHIELD telepath.”

Tony tapped his fingers on the sides of the coffee mug and then drank the coffee. “Wow, this is awkward. Uh, Steve, I don’t know what you saw, but don’t want you to think –”

Steve leaned back in his chair. “I saw my share, Tony. But I figured out something, it worked and you woke up.” _Yes_ , thought Steve bitterly, _after I told a six-year old you that his best day ever was all a dream_.

Both men were quiet for a long time. Then Tony finally said, “I remember what I dreamed, Steve. Do you?”

Pain flashed across Steve’s face. He choked out through a closed throat, “Yes.”

“And?”

Steve said carefully, “I think it is your personal business. And I don’t plan to mention any of it in the eventual debriefing. Which I’ve been putting off, by the way.”

Tony snorted. “You could mention the incredible parties. Those dreams are very inspirational. Rhodey was so jealous.”

Relieved to move away from the probing questions, Steve said, “Pepper and Rhodey reported they couldn’t tell the difference from your real life and dream life.”

“They talked to me vaguely about what they saw,” Tony said. He sat down at the table. “But you didn’t see those dreams though.”

“No. I got to experience your childhood dreams. And your thoughts on what my funeral would be like.” Steve turned off his tablet. “I would’ve preferred the parties, no matter how debauched they got.”

“That’s not exactly what was going on, you know.” Tony was looking down at the table and starting to draw figures on the surface.

“Well,” Steve said, grabbing his bowl. “No need to bring it up if you don’t want to.”

Tony reached out and touched his arm. “Hey, Steve, I know you tend to think that if you were meant to have feelings, the Army would have issued you a set to go along with the spangly outfit and shield.”

“I’m not at all comfortable talking about this,” Steve admitted.

Tony, who could never resist picking up rocks to find out what was underneath, asked, “But what did you think?” He paused before adding, “I need to know.” 

Steve got very still and said nothing for a long time. Then he said with pain in his voice, “If things had worked out differently, there’s a good chance I would have been in your life when you were growing up. All that you dreamed could have happened.”

Tony nodded. He sat for a moment, a look of sad contemplation on his face hardening into one of resolve. His eyes bright and full, he said, “But, Steve, you were always in my life. I heard about you all the time growing up.”

“Hearing exaggerated stories based on faulty memory is not the same, Tony, or you wouldn’t have had those dreams. Being sort of there in spirit is not the same as actually being there,” Steve said. Steve knew that Tony would usually take some enjoyment in rattling Steve, but this time, Tony was equally disturbed. 

“My father was a complicated person. I didn’t know about his involvement in SHIELD until a few years ago. Fury was the one who told me. At the same time I learned that my father loved me from a film outtake, entirely by accident,” Tony said. “Honestly, Steve. I resent the hell out of the fact that you knew him at his best.”

“Tony, I don’t what to say. I knew him only because of the war and SSR. I’d like to think we’d still be friends if I didn’t go under the ice,” Steve offered. “But that was another lifetime ago.”

“The SHIELD people talk about Howard like he was some sort of hero. But all I ever knew was what he told me about you.”

“You mean Captain America,” Steve corrected. He shifted slightly in his seat.

“Okay, about Captain America,” Tony conceded. “Howard did not make it easy. He talked like the sun rose and set on Captain America.” He sighed and thought for awhile. “But Howard also had a few stories about his friend Steve Rogers. He’d only mention those stories after he had a few drinks with his war buddies so I hardly ever heard them. You always seemed a bit more human as Steve. I wanted to hear those stories, know that man.”

“Gee, thanks, Tony,” Steve said, rolling his eyes. Then he sighed. “That last dream, Tony? I was there for all of that dream. I wanted that as much as you did. That’s what I wanted before I went down in the ice and there’s a part of me that will always want that.”

Cutting through the silence left behind after that statement, the oven timer beeped. Tony got up to take the pizza out. He gingerly took a bite of the hot pizza. “I would have been better off ordering in,” he grumbled as he sat back down at the table. 

“It’s food, at least,” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Anyway, now that you know my deep dark secrets and I know yours, I should probably say thanks,” Tony said.

“You would have done the same for me,” Steve replied.

“Considering that I seem to think it’s your job in life to save me from aliens, terrorists, criminals. And myself.”

“What are friends for?” 

“What are friends for,” Tony parroted back. “Let’s just chalk this whole thing up to me thinking that you’d have made my Dad a different person, or my life better when I needed a father figure. And maybe I was a tiny bit resentful you weren’t around.”

Steve paused. “You know, Tony, I don’t entirely get your and Howard’s relationship. My father wasn’t around when I was growing up, so I don’t know what it’s like to love or hate my father. It seems to me that you’re still fighting his ghost.”

Tony cocked his head to the side. “Yeah,” he drawled. “I probably am. And I probably always will.” He studied Steve. “Look, I don’t want my goddamn daddy issues to undermine our friendship. And you know, I know you a lot better now than I did when we first met. And you are not Howard. Not even a little bit.” 

Steve nodded gratefully and asked, “So, Tony. You and me? Are we all good here?”

“Well, I still say, I got the better bargain with you here now instead of back then.” Tony stood up. “And so I say, friend Steve, let’s blow this popsicle stand and go get real pizza. There’s gotta be a decent all-night pizza place somewhere in New York. Come on, Cap. That cereal probably won’t hold you much longer.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Tony, since we’re friends and all, just so you know, if anything ever happens to me --” Tony made a panicky noise but Steve persisted.“If anything were to ever happen to me, just promise me no state funerals. Ever. Even if it was a dream, the thought is horribly embarrassing. ...”

Tony threw up his hands and grinned. “Fine, no state funeral.”

“And when I turn 100, no party, no speeches. No fireworks, for god’s sake. I’ll be fine with a card.”

“Really? Because I already put a deposit on Yankee Stadium for the event. You know, stage show, big name stars, you on the pitcher’s mound all decked out in red, white and blue. Although there are some who might prefer you decked out in your birthday suit.”

Steve turned a deep red. Finally, he choked out, “Not -- not Yankee Stadium.”

“Oh, that’s right. Not a Yankee fan. Citi Field then?”

“Not even that.” 

They both started to laugh helplessly. Steve wiped the tears from his eyes. “Ok, friend Tony, I’ll go get my jacket.”

As Tony waited for Steve, he thought it was good to be friends with Steve. He’d always known it was better with Steve around and in his life. He was not sure how Steve actually fit into his world a lot of the time. But right now, right here, having Steve in his life was fantastic.


End file.
